


Another Dime In

by penlex



Series: Mick Rory Appreciation Porn [5]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e01 Pilot, Exhibitionism, Femdom, Multi, Nicknames, Overstimulation, Pegging, Polyamory, Strangers to Friends Who Had Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/M/M, or more like:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 18:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12090906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penlex/pseuds/penlex
Summary: Whoever said the middle was the best spot clearly wasn't doing it right.





	Another Dime In

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: this is not the SSC way to do exhibitionism. Do not do the dancing/dirty talk scene irl unless you are at a club where that is expressly part of the intended experience.
> 
> On a lighter note: I listened to nothing but Britney Spears and Joan Jett while writing this, so that should give you some idea of what's to come (ba dum tss).

The bar is silent after Sara and her two new buddies finish wiping the floor with twenty plus biker asshole types. Sara absolutely expects them to get kicked out, as the least consequence, but the older woman behind the bar just takes another drag off her fatty and rolls her eyes. Nice. Sara laughs, high on winning and tearing down shitty men, and lopes back over to the jukebox.

"Seriously?" one of the dudes on the floor demands of the bartender, garbled from what Sara may or may not hope is a loose tooth.

"You can fight 'em again if you're mad about it," the bartender tells him, utterly without inflection. Behind her at her right and left, Sara hears Snart and Rory laugh quietly. She whirls as her song selection starts up, and grabs both of them by their elbows to dance, right in the circle of their fallen foes.

She may or may not be a little turned on. So sue her. Snart and Rory don't seem to be faring any different, guessing from the eyes they're making at each other over Sara's head. But that just won't do, will it? Nobody puts themself in the middle to be ignored. She plasters her back against Rory, rewarded when he puts one of his big hands on her waist in response, loops her fingers into Snart's belt loops underneath that stupid parka and yanks him in so they have just as much contact. They don't dance so much as press their bodies together on rhythm.

"Thought dudes weren't your type," the first asshole calls out bitterly, and Sara laughs at him gleefully. She throws her leg up around Snart's waist and he holds her with a firm yet unentitled grip on her ass, seamless.

"I said  _ you  _ weren't my type," Sara corrects the guy, and her voice comes out husky and hot. Snart raises an eyebrow, probably wondering how far she wants to take this. In answer, Sara meets his eyes with a grin and rolls her hips. She watches his face as he flicks his look up at Rory.

"I'm down," Rory says, sweet and simple, his deep voice rumbling in his chest and rattling Sara's bones through with warmth and anticipation. It's been a long time since she did something like this. She doesn't know how she made it so long without.

Sara's leg gets dropped back onto the floor, but Snart's hands stay firm on her ass, squeezing a little on the beat as the three of them move against each other, not quite dancing but feeling the music and the ambiance and each other's bodies.

The noises of the bar slowly, stiltedly start back up around them. Some of the men they beat leave, but most crawl back into their seats to watch like they can't resist. Sara feels wild and powerful and sharp, and she puts her mouth on Snart to share it with him. She lips at his neck, just barely rough with five o'clock shadow, pinches him with her canines to warn him, and when he tilts his head back in permission she bites. He hisses, presses himself closer to her (presses her closer to Rory).

"Quit being a gentleman, asshole," Rory grumbles, and then reaches around both of them to grab his own handful of Snart's ass and pull him in so tight and close to Sara there's no way to call this dancing anymore. Snart's breath leaves him in a gasp, nearly silent, but Sara lets herself moan out loud. They're so close they might as well be fucking standing up. Sara's smaller body is held in between theirs, Snart between her legs and Rory at her back, more of their weight on her than her own.

"Jesus," one of the bar patrons hisses. Sara moans again, through a bitten lower lip. Snart's eyes are heavy on her, but not as heavy as the audience's. She rolls her head back on Rory's chest and arches her back so that Snart and everyone can get a nice view of her tits, and the way she can make her body move.

"Somehow I don't think that's the right name to invoke," Snart murmurs, droll. His eyes are below her face now, where they belong, and Sara happily takes it up a notch.

"You calling me sinful, Snart?" she asks while she takes one of Rory's hands away from him and drags it from her belly to high on her ribs, briefly over her leather clad chest, and down again. Rory rumbles in her ear, not quite a moan but more than a sigh.

"Oh of course not," Snart drawls with a smirk, and lets one of his hands follow the path Sara had taken Rory's on. "Only pure and wholesome exhibitionism here." Someone swears and Sara moans again, knowing the whole bar can hear their conversation clearly enough.

"I think," Snart says then, faux-thoughtful, "that our fallen foes deserve to see a little more of you." He switches their positions, smooth as ever, pressing his back into Rory's front where Sara was and her back into his front instead, putting her out on display. "Call it a consolation prize." Sara grinds back into him with relish, and risks the potential consequences for indecency to put one of his hands  _ almost  _ between her legs, so close to where she wants him, or his partner. She can see all the faces of the men who couldn't measure up now - angry, bitter, and turned on, unable to look away. Impotent. Sexier than any porno.

They 'dance' like that for a few moments, Sara catching eyes with more than a few of their helpless macho voyeurs. Some turn away from her gaze, and some are too captivated. She loves them both. But she wants to take that feeling to its climax tonight, wants to watch and feel a big tough man fall apart because of her.

"No fair," she whines, slightly breathless. Even though she's thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Snart beginning to chub up against her ass, his warm chest against her partially bare back, and the brush of Rory's fingers against her when he adjusts his grip on Snart, it won't get her where she wants to go. "I wanna be on the end."

"You're on the end right now," Rory grumbles, but his tone is questioning instead of contradictory like it might have been from a different man. Sara just tosses a wicked smirk back his way, grateful for the perfect cue, before she steps very deliberately out of Snart's arms, performing for their enraptured audience.

Sara searches the sparse crowd for the perfect asshole, the one who looks the most pissed off. When she finds him, she locks eyes with him, letting his useless rage stoke her fire. She goes around behind Rory and takes a firm grip of his wide hips and yanks him back, lifting herself up on her toes so that his ass meets her pelvis. She slams them together like she's fucking into him right here, in front of everyone, and she does it without blinking once. The asshole's cheap bar glass cracks in his hand at the same time as Rory lets out an unsteady groan, but Sara can't appreciate that as much as it deserves because she just has to look away, at Rory, as she starts up a new rhythm.

Rory's head drops down and he follows Sara's lead, grinding back into her eagerly. He's too big for her to be able to see around him to Snart, but she watches the way the muscles in his forearms shift, presumably as he tightens his hold on Snart's hips. Sara is a little sorry she can't see Snart's face, but as if he read her mind his head falls back onto Rory's shoulder not a second later. The look he shoots her out of the corner of his eyes almost looks grateful.

He is very welcome.

As they continue to 'dance', Sara takes great joy in squeezing Rory's hips harder and getting to see his arms shift and Snart's eyes flutter in response. Every time Sara's flat groin connects with his ass, Rory lets out a helpless little moan - finally vocalizing, just how Sara wants him. Sara hadn't expected him to make such soft sounds, and every time she hears it she can feel herself getting wetter, warmer, wanting to hear more, see more, make him, both of them, feel more. Snart lifts an arm to rest his hand heavily on the bared back of Rory's neck, and Rory's next moan is significantly louder, met with a chorus of sharp breaths and swears from all around them. It has Sara's insides clenching. She bites her lip to hold back a heated whimper of her own, wanting to hear him, to hear everyone else, instead.

Suddenly, Snart tells her, "He's got a full stiff." He doesn't modulate his volume or pitch at all, projecting easily, and Sara knows the whole bar probably heard him just fine. Rory does too, from the way he gasps, "Jesus, Lenny." Sara is more than happy to jump on that bandwagon. For all that she loved when Snart had been teasing her, this is so much better.

"You like this, Rory?" she wonders, that it's obvious only making the tease better. "You want me to fuck you?" She's not being loud, but the bar's not loud either, after the array of scenes the three of them have made. Sara is pleasantly sweating from the fighting and the dancing and the heat between them. Her head is spinning just a little from exhilaration and arousal, and so her overheated ears tell her that her voice echoes.

Rory groans again. But Snart scoffs.

"Baby talk," he says. In retaliation, Sara takes a mouthful of Rory through his shirt, just underneath his shoulder blade because that's the highest she can reach. She bites down on it in her next thrust. Rory gasps out sharply, and this time Sara gets to feel his muscles shift from inside her mouth as he jerks forward into Snart. So close to her ear, Sara can hear Snart's breath catch in his throat, almost a moan but not quite there yet. Soon, if Sara has anything to say about it. But first, Sara wants him to show her how to publicly dirty talk Rory just right, if that wasn't it. She wants them to work Rory together into a puddle in between them.

"If you think you can do better…" she leads him, her gut tightening in excitement when his mouth lifts in a smirk.

"You do want her to fuck you," he declares to Rory, authoritative once he's got his breath back - a statement, not a question, drawled in the same coolly superior tone he uses for any old situation. He squeezes Rory's neck, curls his fingers so that the nails  _ just  _ dig in, until Rory is panting from it. "You wanna get fucked by a woman in front of all these men you helped her wipe the floor with. You want her to wipe the floor with you too."

Rory nods, helplessly. Good, Sara thinks. Because she wants nothing more than exactly that. To drag someone as indomitable as Mick Rory across the coals, to tear him apart, and have him want it, to have him beg her for more.

"You want her to own you too," Mick mumbles then, almost petulant. Sara has to slam her head between his shoulders, shut her eyes tight just thinking of it. If she could wreck  _ both  _ of them…  _ The _ Mick Rory and Leonard Snart, weak and helpless after she's done with them...  _ God _ .

"True…" Leonard acknowledges easily, his tone nothing more than considering. If Sara doesn't get to hear him too loud and speechless by the end of the night, she thinks she might just go right off the deep end. "What do you say, Mickey? Think we should follow her somewhere? Maybe she'll fuck me first and you can watch. You love it when you have to wait."

It's Sara who moans helplessly this time, as Mick shudders from his head to his toes.

"Anybody got any recommendations?" Sara asks impulsively of the room at large, shaking her hair out of her face to look around again. There's silence for a moment and then - wonder of wonders - the very first asshole's girl steps forward to hand Sara a slip of paper with an address written on it.

"It's just a few blocks down on the right," she says. "You can't miss it."

"Thanks, sweetheart," Sara tells her. Grins at her, winks. The girl blushes with a bashful smile. Sara passes the little note from Mick to Leonard at the front, and then corrales her men out the door.

She blows a kiss at the helpful girl on her way out, and waits to watch her bite her lip before finally turning away.

They can't actually go to the by the hour place, for all that it fits the mood, because Sara refuses to fuck them without getting to  _ fuck  _ them, so unless they wanted to wander around hunting for a toy store they have to go back to the Waverider where Sara already has some fun stuff that's just dying to get put to use. She'd only packed them on a whim, and boy is she glad now that she did. She stays behind Leonard and Mick the whole way back, admiring their backsides shamelessly. Leonard tosses her knowing smirks over his shoulder, and occasionally smacks or squeezes Mick's ass, to keep everyone fired up and to further enhance Sara's lovely view. They make it back all the way to Sara's room onboard with only minimal scandal.

As the door hisses shut behind her, Leonard turns to face Sara and purrs, "Where do you want us, boss?" Mick moans again with his eyes on Leonard. Sara assumes it must be at the inversive nickname, but she really doesn't care as long as she gets to hear it lots more.

"Just how we were," Sara orders after a brief thought. "Only on the bed, and you two facing each other."

"Clothes?" Mick asks. Sara doesn't need to think about it this time.

"Off." Sara wrestles her own suit top down her chest as they undress, and then tosses away her uncomfortable bra too. She sighs high in her throat, half in genuine relief to free herself and half for performance's sake, and massages her breasts, approving of how their eyes catch on her. When they've been suitably distracted, Sara turns to dig out her box of goodies, listening in satisfaction to the rustle of their clothes behind her in their renewed rush to get the rest of the way naked for her.

When Sara finally finds it, she tears the lid off of the sex box and tosses it away from her like it's just as offensive to her as the uncomfortable bra. She stares into the depths, taking in every wonderful item, deciding which to use. The strap-on and its harness are obvious and get taken out immediately, tossed over Sara's shoulder like a towel before a workout - the excited murmurs behind her are like music to her ears. She passes over her expansive collection of dental dams after a second's deliberation. Could be used for slowly rimming them into oblivion, but Sara's not feeling that just now (maybe next time, though). A leather collar (it might fit, but there's only one; she wouldn't want anybody to feel left out), fluffy handcuffs, and a riding crop all get passed over too, until Sara comes to her bondage tape. She has it in three colors: her own ex-signature patent black, powder blue, and pale pink. Pastel Cold and Heatwave colors; it's like it was meant to be. Sara holds the rolls up in question as she turns back to Leonard and Mick - now blissfully bare and exactly where she told them to be - to make sure.

"Not on my mouth or legs," says Leonard. For Mick it's, "Only on my wrists."

That works more than perfectly for Sara's purposes.

Sara arranges them so that Leonard's hands rest on the mattress just above his head and Mick's lined up with his. She wraps both colors of tape around their wrists in crosses until they look braided together with a joint color scheme.

"You come here often?" Leonard says to Mick when Mick's fingers curl automatically through his. It's a different tone than he's used so far tonight, or ever that Sara has heard yet - one that comes from years of familiarity and tenderness. The two of them gaze warmly into each other's eyes for a moment. Another person might feel jealous, but Sara is only even more comfortable and excited. That they can be like this with one another reaffirms her choice, and it thrills her that they would let her join them.

Condoms and lube are the last things to grab, and Sara tosses them onto Mick's back forcing him to stay nice and still so that they don't topple off. He chuckles softly and obliges, and Sara laughs back as she peels her suit the rest of the way off.

When Sara is finally down to just her comfy black panties, she kneels on the bed in between the two men's legs. She doesn't put on her dick yet, saving it for after some proper appetizing.

She whets her own palette first (as if she wasn't hungry enough for this feast already), running a firm touch up Mick's back, enjoying the contrast of his smooth skin and his rougher scars across her hands. He sighs happily, and Sara smiles at that even as she sweeps her perusing hands back down to get them on the main attraction.

The globes of Mick's ass are firm in Sara's hands as she squeezes and massages them both, slowly pulling them apart to expose him. She almost regrets deciding against the rimming when she finally gets to see his pucker, a deep dusky pink that she already knows is going to look  _ so  _ good wet. Rory sighs again, a little louder now, and underneath him Leonard makes a gentle encouraging noise. Sara finally gets Mick to moan out loud again by softly pulling at his hole with both thumbs, over and over again until she can see his shoulders start to shake and hears another pleased hum from Leonard.

Sara grabs the plastic tube of lube off of Mick's back and snaps it open impatiently, enjoying the way Mick shivers at the sound as she slicks up her fingers. She just pets him with them for a minute, watching raptly as his hole starts to open for her, wanting her inside. Mick is shiny and glistening with lube now and Sara holds his cheeks apart to admire the way the light catches and winks back at her. He looks just as mouthwatering as she knew he would. When she's looked her fill Sara still keeps it slow and teasing, dipping first the tip of one finger in, then two, slipping in and out only just barely to the first knuckle. She keeps it up like that until Mick is panting and sweating.

And then she moves on to Leonard.

He makes a noise of surprise when she first touches him, and then groans and spreads his legs. With the way they're positioned, his movement spreads Mick out wider too. If the existence of girls hadn't already convinced Sara of a benevolent higher power, that would do it. Sara works her fingers into Leonard just as meticulously as she had with Mick, but she takes it further with him, not stopping until she has three fingers all the way inside and can easily fuck him with them. She has him moaning and rolling his body up into Mick's in short order, and Mick is whining about it beautifully.

So Sara switches again, and puts her fingers - the same fingers - back in his ass instead. She fingers him until he's just as open and eager for her as Leonard, and then goes back to Leonard again. This time she only dips her fingers inside briefly, and goes back to Mick, and then back again, sharing the lube between them, getting them messy with the same wetness.

" _ Fuck _ , Sara, would you just fuck one of us already!" Leonard snaps after long minutes of the teasing and Sara laughs, delighted to finally make him lose that eternal cool.

"Don't be rude," she scolds playfully as she curls her fingers into Mick's prostate and sets him groaning. "Or you'll both just be laying here all night."

"Shut the fuck up, Lenny," Mick pants in a rough voice, pushing back onto Sara's fingers. Sara rewards him for the loyalty by pressing in harder, making sure he'll have to do any more talking without words. Leonard groans back in frustration, and Sara succumbs both to their eagerness and her own growing impatience and grabs one of the condoms still waiting on Mick's back. She holds it between her teeth as she does up her harness, and then simply tugs on it to rip it open.

Sara circles both arms around Mick's waist, pressing her chest against his back and her freshly donned dick against his ass. The groan he lets out now is higher pitched that the last, and Leonard echoes him, and Sara copies them both too. She can't wait to get inside for real. She rolls the condom onto Mick, watching Leonard watch her hands move over his partner's cock, chewing on his own lip. When the condom is on, Sara takes a too-tight grip of Mick at his base, moving her other hand to his hip and using both to direct him where she wants him. She holds the head of Mick's cock at Leonard's entrance, making them wait until they are both squirming, their knuckles turning white from how hard they're squeezing each other's hands where they're bound together, and then she presses him inside and pushes him steadily forward until he's fully sheathed. She can't help but sigh in pleasure when Leonard's eyes flutter and he throws his head back into her pillow, jaw slack.

"Don't get too distracted on me, Cold," Sara says breathlessly. To her deep satisfaction, Leonard's eyes snap to her automatically, a thin ring of icy blue around blown out pupils. "I want him wrecked," she explains huskily, talking about Mick like he's not there, making him shiver against her where she's still lying across his back with her strap-on pressed against him but not quite where she knows he wants it as bad as she does. "A complete mess. Do your part."

Leonard grins at her, and maintains that heated eye contact as he deliberately rolls his body, and maybe he clenches around Mick too, because Mick groans brokenly and jerks forward roughly. Sara moans and drags herself down his back, making sure to catch her sensitive nipples on his scars on her way, knowing he can feel her doing it by the way he rounds his shoulders to press back up into her. Sara rips open the other condom and rolls it onto her strap-on, lubes it up, and lets Mick feel her stroking it until he can't stay still anymore, little aborted thrusts that push Leonard's breath out of him as Mick spreads his legs farther for her.

Sara doesn't bother going slow for the next part, the best part, she just presses her dick into Mick's ass in one smooth, decisive thrust. He cries out into Leonard's throat, Leonard rumbling back in approval. Sara sits up on her knees, both for the perfect leverage and so that she can watch him - watch  _ them _ , together. As she rolls her hips, smoothly fucking Mick, Sara watches the muscles in his back flex, the back of his neck flushed the most appealing shade of red…

Leonard's knees press into the backs of Sara's hands where she's gripping Mick's hips hard enough to make her fingertips tingle. It's intimate in a way that would usually have Sara pulling back, ready to leave as soon as the finale's over, but with them it's different somehow… So instead she lets go of Mick with one hand so that she can slide it down the inside of his thigh.

" _ Haaah _ ," he whimpers brokenly, the leg Sara's caressing falling open as his back arches. "I'm-  _ trying  _ to follow your orders here, boss," he complains on another breathless moan. "You're not- making it easy."

Mick thrusts forward into Leonard so hard then that Sara almost slips out of him and has to up the pace to keep them all together, Leonard crying out sharply and his knee snapping back into place to cling at Mick, crushing Sara's hand into the soft meat of his thigh between them. She moans gleefully, a hand on both of them, her eyes drinking them in, the dildo in her strap-on pressing against her clit through her soaked panties every time her hips meet Mick's ass. It's gotta be at the nickname, like before…

"Say it again," Sara gasps. Her voice no longer has that authoritative tone she loves to use so  much, too breathless, too excited, but they both seem to appreciate it just fine.

"Say what, boss?" Leonard says, faux innocent, and this time both Mick and Sara moan about it.

There's not much talking after that, the three of them fucking each other slow and steady like breaking waves, no one sure whose momentum is whose anymore. Their moans and gasps crest at the same rhythm, filling up the room with sweet humid heat until Sara thinks she could drown in it all.

Mick comes first, shaking in between Leonard and Sara, growling out his pleasure on a hoarse and helpless voice until finally collapsing in a sweaty boneless mess on top of Leonard. He breathes heavily to the side, across Leonard's chest, which Sara finally gets to see now - flushed and damp with sweat, heaving from gasps and moans, perfect perfect perfect. Mick lazily sticks his tongue out to brush along the pink, pebbled nipple in front of his mouth, and Leonard swears.

When he manages to peel open his eyes, Leonard looks at Sara over Mick's head. She meets his eyes like a challenge, and does not stop fucking Mick. Leonard laughs, and re-adjusts his legs around Mick's hips over Sara's hands. She can feel his thighs flex against her wrists as he pulls himself up into Mick now that Mick isn't thrusting down into him anymore, and she wishes she could see more of him - could see his core work, the tightening of his belly as he fucks himself. She squeezes Mick's hips harder, trying not to let her eyes roll back as she fucks him harder too, trying not to even blink.

"Oh, God," Mick gasps out when he realizes what they're doing, but it is far from a complaint.

When the two of them get Mick shaking again, his eyes no longer able to open, or his mouth to close, drooling all over Leonard's chest and whining on every breath; when Leonard sounds just as desperate, wordless just like Sara wanted him, his shoulders and neck straining from having his weight on them so much so he can try- try to get fucked without Mick doing any of the work, even though Mick might even be soft by now; when Leonard finally meets Sara's eyes again and they look like they might be a little wet with frustration and he whimpers at her - Sara finally falls over Mick's back again so she can reach around him. She adjusts the angle of her hips until Mick cries out and then stays right there, grinding in tight little circles until he spits out cuss after cuss and then finally turns his head and closes his teeth on a mouthful of Leonard's already red chest.

Then, and only then, does Sara take Leonard's cock in her hand. Leonard shouts, and even as she's watching his face, rapt, she savors how his cock jerks at her touch, purrs at how wet it is for her, the slick smooth slide of her hand as she begins to stroke him.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck," Leonard chants. His grip on Mick's hands is so tight Mick can't hold him back anymore and the pressure is turning both of their hands white. Mick moves underneath her and Sara glances at him to see he's managed to pay direct attention to his partner even with Sara's dick still inside him where it fucking belongs. He licks and kisses at where he left teeth marks, and then starts making encouraging noises.

"Yeah," he rumbles, although if he wasn't as big and his voice wasn't as deep it would sound like a whisper, just from being so hoarse. "Yeah, c'mon, Lenny, fuck…" and then, "Make him come, boss."

Sara is not surprised that does it.

Sara keeps stroking him through his orgasm and then keeps going after too, giving him the same treatment Mick got, enjoying the slippery warm feeling of his come on her fingers and the heat of him still in her hand as he starts to soften up, until he whimpers, "Fuck, okay, okay, enough."

And now it's her turn.

Sara pulls out of Mick, drinking in his sigh and the way the both of them melt into her bed with satisfaction. She flops onto her back beside them, stroking her slippery dick in its harness a few times for show before peeling the condom off and tossing it away. The dildo comes out of its base first, and Sara rests it on her bare belly to free her hands for undoing the harness and slipping her sodden panties just far enough down her thighs. Finally, Sara gets slicks the dildo up in her mouth (not that she needs the help at this point, really), fluttering her eyes at Mick and Leonard next to her as she slides it into herself.

Sara fucks herself slow and hard, just the way she likes it, with the same toy she just fucked Mick with. Her shoulder is pressed firmly into the side of Leonard's relaxed upraised arm, her spread open knee brushing against Mick's waist, so that they can all fit together on her bed. She makes her movements exaggerated, heatedly watching them watch her. The dildo is on the larger end of average for a penis, and the stretch feels so good, filling Sara up with that perfect tight heat, but the looks on their faces are even better. Two utterly debauched tough guys, just made desperate and weak at Sara's hand, helpless to do anything at all because she left them all tied up and wet,  _ fuck- _

Sara loses track of her performance as she reaches climax, her toes curling, her knee pressing hard into Mick's side, her head digging back into the mattress as she cries out, open-mouthed - but she doesn't miss the way both men swear reverently. She makes sure to draw it out with gentle fingers on her clit, a pretty present for all three of them for a job well done.

Finally, Sara relaxes back into her mattress, stretching her arms up above her and sighing in satisfaction. She turns to to side to look at them, blowing a lock of sweaty blonde hair out of her face. She grins so hard at their wide-eyed heated looks that her cheeks hurt.

Sara slides out of bed into standing like she's made of liquid, because she feels like it, leans over to unwrap the bondage tape from around Leonard and Mick's wrists. She checks each of them for bruising, and then watches with something quickly approaching genuine affection as they check each other too. They kiss softly as Sara wipes down and puts away her gear, and then Mick grumbles, "Food." Leonard rolls his eyes with a fond smirk (who knew smirks could be fond), and leans over to tug -  _ really _ ? He tugs a bag of mixed dried fruit out of the pocket of that stupid parka.

"You must be the mom friend," Sara teases laughingly as she bounds back onto her bed with them. Leonard throws a raisin at her, and hits her square in the tit. Rude. They much together for a few moments, both of them idly feeding Mick because he refuses to move, before Sara asks, "So, did I wipe the floor with you guys or what?" They both groan and more fruit flies at her. She tries to catch some of it in her mouth, but doesn't have any luck. When the projectiles stop, Sara throws herself across the bed and flops down hard on top of Mick, making him grunt. She grins down into his face and he squints at her suspiciously.

He's right to, because the next thing she asks, her tone faux innocent enough to rival even Leonard, is:

"Best two out of three?"


End file.
